Parents and Children
by CharlesTheBold
Summary: The Girardis, the Polonskis, and Mr. Rove discuss their children over dinner.


**Parents and Children**

_(Disclaimer: I have no business connection with JOAN. My only purpose in writing this story is to have fun and maybe share it)_

_(Author's Note: This story is part of a series that takes place after the JOAN OF ARCADIA TV show ended. A listing of the other stories is on my profile. The main events that have happened since May 2005 are _

_Joan has married Adam, and Kevin has married Sister Lily. Lily is expecting a baby._

_Grace is in Europe, training to work for a famine-relief organization._

_Luke was accepted at Harvard a year early._

_God has made contact with Luke, Grace, Adam, and Helen, though Joan remains his primary contact._

_This story is set on October 2, 2006._

The sun had gone down, and by Jewish law Yom Kippur was officially over. Rabbi Polonski finished his work at the synagogue and drove home with his wife.

In past years, Days of Atonement had been spiritually stressful: the Rabbi had had to lead the congregation through the rituals of atonement while meditating on the troubles of his own family life. But Sarah had abstained from drinking for more than a year, and Grace seemed to have turned out well, aside from occasionally sleeping with her boyfriend.

The rabbi changed into more conventional clothes, then joined his wife in a snack to break the 24-hour fast. As Sarah started to open a second wrapper of crackers, he hinted gently: "We don't want to indulge too much. We're having dinner with the Girardis, after all."

He knew people would think it odd that, after the most solemn Jewish holy day of the year, he promptly went to dinner with a Gentile family. But the Girardis were special. They seemed to have been involved in every bit of good fortune that the Polonskis had enjoyed in recent years, even Grace's agreement to go through a belated Bat Mitzvah.

"But suppose they accidently serve something non-kosher? Gracie never seemed to mind, but we would."

"I don't think it will happen," said the rabbi. "I explained the requirements to the younger Mrs. Girardi."

Sarah giggled. "The one who used to be a Catholic nun?"

"She appreciates the importance of following ritual."

Sarah put away the crackers. It had been a thoroughly minor problem. There had been an earlier year where Sarah went straight from her fast to drinking, and the effects of alcohol on an empty stomach had been disastrous.

All in the past. Don't dwell on it. That's the point of Yom Kippur, that you start the new year fresh.

As he drove up to the Girardi residence, the rabbi noticed Old Rove's pickup truck. The Roves were another Gentile family with whom the Polonskis fate had been intertwined. Gracie had recorded little Adam Rove as her best friend, and so their mothers had gotten acquainted. Mrs. Rove's depression and final suicide had had a devastating effect on Sarah, perhaps the main factor that had driven Sarah to drink. But the rabbi could hardly blame that on the widower, who had suffered a devastating loss himself. The two men had tried to maintain a friendship

across differences in religion and temperament. Adam and Gracie had stuck together firmly during the crisis and for several years afterward.

The door was answered by Lily Girardi. "Hi, Rabbi – Ma'am. Come in."

"Thank you, Mrs. Girardi," Sarah answered.

"Aw, call me Lily. It gets confusing with two Mrs. Girardis around here. Some think it's funny to still call me Sister Lily, even with THIS showing." She brushed her hand across her belly. She was wearing a loose blouse over stylish pants. Sarah had opted for a conservative dress, but maybe that sort of old-fashionedness was expected in a clergyman's wife.

"When are you due?" Sarah seemed a little at a loss how to deal with Lily, but the question seemed safe once the subject of pregnancy had come up.

"March, the doctor says."

Kevin approached in his wheelchair and greeted the couple. "Mom and Dad are still in the kitchen, preparing the dinner, so it's just us at the moment."

"I saw Mr. Rove's car –" said the rabbi.

"Upstairs," said Kevin vaguely. Probably that was a euphemism for using the bathroom.

"I saw your series in the paper, about politics and the disabled. Very impressive, young man."

"Thanks. Being able to interview yourself has an advantage."

As they settled down to dinner, Rove had a dramatic announcement.

"Now that Joan and Adam have moved out, it's silly to stay alone in a big house, plus a guest-house turned studio. Plus, if I sell the truck, I don't even need a big garage. So I've decided to sell the lot, and move to an apartment."

"Are you sure you won't need the truck?" asked Will Girardi.

"I've negotiated a different position with the city, that doesn't involve hauling things around."

"We had a similar debate about moving to a smaller dwelling," said Helen, "but Lily and Kevin decided to share the house." Unspoken was the assumption that a disabled husband and a pregnant wife might need more help around the house.

"What does Adam think about the change?" asked Kevin.

"He says he's 'cool' with it. Joan got a little upset, because of sentimental value. The studio is where she asked Adam to marry her."

"_She_ proposed to _him_?" asked Sarah, startled.

"Right. Modern girls. Speaking of which, how's your daughter?"

"Doing fine," said the rabbi. "Next month they'll be flying to the Third World for the first time. I'm glad Grace has found something positive to believe in, and I know the organization wouldn't deliberately fly her into a danger zone, but I'm still worried about her."

"I'm proud of her," said Sarah, "but I wish she had enjoyed her childhood a little longer." Everybody at the table understood that as a tacit admission that Sarah herself had ruined much of that childhood with her drinking. "Riding her new horse, and dating Luke, even if he was a g—"

"Seeing that Luke had a chance to go to Harvard a year early," the rabbi interrupted hastily, "that wouldn't have worked out. And now he's surrounded by Radcliffe girls."

"Actually, no," murmured Kevin, and everybody stared at him. "Um, I talked to Luke on the phone and kidded him about girls; you know how guys talk? Anyway, he said he hadn't dated anybody else because he had a 'mystic bond' with Grace, then he changed the subject in a hurry. It was such a weird thing for him to say; usually he's so scientific."

An awkward silence fell as everybody tried to figure it out. Rove tried to change the subject again.

"Adam and Joan seem to have settled well at their new college. Adam has produced his first artwork since moving out. A statue for a college play. I'd show you a photo, except that it represents a naked woman."

Everybody laughed, rather relieved.

"I hear that Joan was in the play, too," said the rabbi.

"Yes, the four of us went to see it," said Will, indicating Helen, Kevin, and Lily.

"The play was very strange," opined Lily.

"Yes, but the point was seeing Joan enjoy herself. Afterward we went to see her, but only Helen got a chance to talk to her."

Helen looked strained, and the rabbi realized that she had spoken little during the meal.

"That was weird," said Kevin. "Growing up, Joan and Luke used to confide in me all the time. The kids against the parents—"

"Against?" repeated Will.

"Just in a very mild way. But about two or three years ago, they stopped. Never figured out why."

"Maybe after you got married?" suggested his wife.

"No, too recent."

"Or maybe it was too personal to talk to a guy about, even her brother. I thought at the time she might be pregnant, like me."

"No," said Helen. "They're using – precautions." But she wouldn't say anymore.

And Kevin wouldn't quiet down. Joan's failure to confide in him apparently rankled.

"And when she wouldn't talk, that's when all the craziness started. The boat. Smashing Adam's sculpture. Dating the class bully. Getting all tangled up with that wild girl who got herself killed. Yes, I know she was sick during part of that time, but the dates don't add up. Joan was simply acting like a bimbo."

Kevin's parents and wife seemed anxious to restrain him, but oddly enough it was Sarah who managed it.

"Joan is no bimbo! She's the most wonderful girl I've ever met. I've got something to say."

Uh-oh, thought the rabbi.

"Up to a year ago, I had a drinking problem. The worst of it came at a ceremony – in fact it was your wedding reception, Lily. I drank too much champagne, and Joan noticed I was unsteady, and offered to help me down some steps. But I ended up knocking her off balance, and she fell down the stairs, and spent a night in the hospital."

"We knew all that," said Will, embarrassed. "You don't have to—"

"Yes, I do. Because JOAN NEVER BLAMED ME AFTERWARD. She forgave me. And THAT was what shamed me into stopping drinking. I wanted to be like Joan. She is no bimbo, she is a holy one, a saint." She raised her glass, and though it contained nothing stronger than Coca-cola, everybody appreciated the gesture. "To Joan!"

"To Joan." Everybody repeated.

"May God watch over her."

"May God watch over her." They drank.

But the rabbi happened to be looking at Helen. And she had a secret smile, as if she knew something special about the unusual girl she had borne.

THE END


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